Christmas with the Holmes Family
by CelticMyst777
Summary: A Sherolly family fiction story.
1. Chapter 1

**Christmas with the Holmes Family**

It was a crisp and cold night when Sherlock took his dad and his 5 year old twins out to buy a real Christmas Tree. The snow crunched beneath their boots as if they were walking on discarded popcorn in a movie theatre. The short walk leading up to the Christmas tree farm, soon became a snowball battle field. The great Sherlock Holmes was enjoying matching his wits against his equally intelligent children, as they ambushed each other with snowballs.

"I say, old chap" began Grandpa Holmes as he wiped snow off his beanie, after it had been nudged off his head by an errant snowball.

"Sorry, Grandpa," apologised a repentant Richard Holmes who was the splitting image of his father. "Dad moves too fast!"

With that admission, Sherlock had snuck up behind his mischievous son and swept him up onto his shoulders. The five year old laughed loudly and soon forgot his petty grievances against his father's athleticism. Little Eleanor clutched Grandpa Holmes' hand and giggled when her father flashed her a wink, before he raced off with Richard in tow.

"Come along, your majesty" Grandpa Holmes bowed, using the pet-name for his granddaughter that he knew she loved. "We can't let those two hoodlums choose a tree without us!"

"No, they had better not!" Eleanor replied with a determined demeanour that reminded Grandpa Holmes of his son. This similarity was supported by the fact that like her twin brother, Eleanor had inherited not only Sherlock's brain, but also his eyes and hair. There was simply no mistaking that they were his children. Thankfully, though, with a long-suffering mother like Molly, the twins were also proving to be well-mannered and skilled in the art of social graces.

"Yes they will be a force to be reckoned with one day," Grandpa Holmes mused, as he escorted his beloved granddaughter into the Christmas tree farm...

Two hours later, after a in-depth discussion as to what tree was the most suitable, the group finally settled upon one. (Much to the relief of the farmer selling the festive trees). His mind was spinning with all the scientific opinions that seemed imperative when selecting the right tree. He would never be able to look at his trees in the same light again. However, when he discovered that he had just sold an expensive and large tree to none other than the famous Sherlock Holmes, everything started to make sense. In appreciation, the farmer went so far as to give the family some free homemade decorations that his wife had made.

"So you are the great Sherlock Holmes?" he inquired, as he handed over the change to Sherlock.

"Yes am I," the detective replied absently as his attention was suddenly caught by some rustling nearby. As the farmer continued to sing his praises, Sherlock had methodically solved the mystery of the shaking tree. Turning back to fix his gaze on the farmer, he stated,  
"Thank-you for the tree and the decorations...however I think that you will find that a couple of youths are attempting to steal one of your other trees over there."

With that deduction, the stocky farmer charged over to the rustling tree, pitchfork in hand, muttering some colourful words that Sherlock prevented Eleanor from hearing, by covering her ears with his large warm hands.

The twins glanced at each other, enamoured by their father's deductions. Gazing down at Eleanor, Sherlock knelt down and whispered softly,

"Those rascals will be alright, Ellie," he began, tucking a loose ringlet behind her ear, "he won't hurt them too much...just give them a well-deserved scare."

Ellie nodded thoughtfully as her father smiled at her. He could see that she had formulated all this in her little active mind anyway.

"Now I think it's your turn for a ride!" With that, he swept her up onto his shoulders.

The group then made their way back down to the car. A couple of the handymen from the farm had already secured the tree to the double-door Ute. As they drove through the outskirts of London, Grandpa Holmes turned to his son and cautioned,

"You do realise, Sherlock that your mother is going to have a fit when she sees how big this tree is!"

"Oh, I'm counting on it!" Sherlock returned in his customary baritone voice, "it makes Christmas so much more interesting when Mum is all riled up!"


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

"William Sherlock Scott Holmes, what on earth is that monstrosity you are dragging across my kitchen? Just look at the mess it has made to the once clean floor!"

Sherlock looked at the imposing form of his mother glaring at him with her flashing eyes. Despite being half his height, Mrs Holmes made up for her diminutive stature with her commanding voice. Little Richard and Eleanor peaked out from behind Sherlock's coat tails on either leg, to smirk at the exchange between their Daddy and Grandma. In their short lives, they had grown accustomed to their frequent sparring.

Sherlock's plan was to sneak the festive tree into his parent's house via the kitchen door, whilst his mother would no doubt be chatting with Molly in the warm lounge. He had hoped that she would have been too preoccupied by cuddling little Oliver Holmes, to notice a large tree being dragged across her kitchen floor. Unfortunately for Sherlock, Mrs Holmes wasn't holding the new Holmes baby as Molly was busy feeding him.

"Oh well, time to put Plan B into action," Sherlock mused to himself.

With that, he pasted on his most winning smile, and tried to sweet-talk his Mum. She however, was wise to his scheme, and proceeded to give him a good scolding. Sherlock didn't really mind being reprimanded as he enjoyed exchanging intellectual banter with his Mum, and the more riled she was, the better the argument. Mr Holmes however, wasn't in the mood for one of their joisting matches, and so he brought an abrupt end to it by soundly kissing his wife on the lips. He then tenderly turned her around and ushered her into the lounge. As she attempted to protest, Mr Holmes gave his wife an affectionate swat to her bottom, before pushing her completely through the doorway. Sherlock grinned and turned his sparkling eyes onto his twins who were giggling.

"Right then, you two," he began, "Let's get this tree into the lounge before Grandma escapes Grandpa's clutches.

A few minutes later, they managed to stand the tree in its customary place by the fire. Sherlock dusted his hands before tousling his curls and leaning down to kiss Molly, who had approached him with babe in arms. After a lingering kiss, Sherlock stroked Oliver's auburn curls.

"He grows more hair every time I see him!" He whispered to Molly who smiled radiantly with her cheeks warm with a maternal glow.

Eleanor popped her head up between Sherlock's long legs, enjoying the tender exchange between her parents.

"Mummy, Mummy, you should have seen how clever Daddy was at the farm."

She went on to elaborate their adventures at the farm. Molly sat her daughter on her lap after handing Oliver over to Sherlock who was now chatting to him by the hearth. She listened intently to Eleanor's account, constantly amazed at the similarities between her daughter and Sherlock.

Mr Holmes soon returned to the room, after an extensive and successful search in the attic. He was armed with a box of decorations and Richard followed behind him, carrying several strands of colourful tinsel. All together, the family set about decorating the tree. Sherlock lifted Eleanor up onto his shoulders and helped her fix the star to the top of the tree.

"It's so sparkly, Daddy!" she exclaimed, hugging her father around the neck.

Mrs Holmes entered the room with steam mugs of hot chocolate. After everyone had a cup in hand, Richard hopped up onto the couch by his father. Eleanor was already sitting on the other side of Sherlock. Molly smirked at them from her seat. She could tell that her twins had conspired together about something.

"Daddy, would you tell us a story, please?" Eleanor asked pleadingly.

"Well, I guess we have time for a story before bed," Sherlock relented, much to joy of his children. "So what story do you want to hear? How about Goldilocks and the three bears?"

"Oh no, Daddy," began Richard, "That's a kid's story!"

"Oh…I wasn't aware that you two were no longer children….in that case then I could tell you about the story of a gigantic hound lurking in the eerie moors?"

"Sherlock!" Molly stated in disapproval to her husband's suggestion.

Sherlock winked at her with a grin, before rectifying the situation by suggesting,

"Actually, I just remembered a much more relevant story that happens to be drawn from real events."

"What's it about, Daddy?" Richard asked.

"Well, it involves a boy and his adventures at Christmas time. It tells of how he managed to whisk away the apple pie without his mother knowledge….."

Mrs Holmes smiled as she watched the twins snuggle close to their father as he retold many of his exploits as a boy. She didn't spoil the story by saying that she knew all along that Sherlock had stolen that apple pie...

It wasn't long before the twins were sound asleep nestled into the coat sleeves of their father. Tenderly, Sherlock and Molly carried them off to their beds. After kissing the children goodnight, the couple linked hands and closed the door. Mrs Holmes had meanwhile put little Oliver in his crib and he too was sleeping soundly. The elderly Holmes couple then said goodnight and left the younger couple snuggling each other on the warm couch by the fire. When they were alone, Sherlock reached out and swept Molly onto his lap. After a few moments of some serious snogging, he ran his fingers through her hair and asked,

"Now Mrs Holmes, I would love to tuck you into our bed and tell you a special story!"

"Nothing would please me more, darling" Molly replied stroking her hands along the fine contours of Sherlock's cheek bones.

"As you wish!" Sherlock whispered huskily, as he swept his wife up into his arms and carried her into their bedroom.


	3. Chapter 3

Christmas with the Holmes Family

Chapter 3:

Mycroft Holmes, along with John, Mary and little Caroline Watson arrived to celebrate Christmas lunch with the Holmes Clan. Sherlock had already picked up Mrs Hudson so that she wouldn't be alone on this festive occasion. She cooed at baby Oliver who was becoming a firm favourite with her. Perhaps this was because she was with Molly when the young mother went into premature labour and helped deliver the baby safely at 221B Baker's Street. Sherlock, too, was moved and grateful to Mrs Hudson, and as such, he made sure she was never alone at this time of year.

Once upon a time, he used to reason that being alone, was what made him safe and secure. However, with Molly and a growing family depending on him, Sherlock had dramatically reconsidered his previous notion of what it meant to be safe and content in life. Gazing around the room at his children popping bon-bon crackers with their grandparents, and then seeing Molly smile her sweet, happy smile, Sherlock knew that he had made the right choice.

"Uncle Sherlock," asked Caroline Holmes, her blond ponytail bobbing as she looked up at him "Would you like to snap open your cracker with me!"

Sherlock gazed down at the blue-eyed girl, who was a perfect blend of both her parents, and then replied,

"It would be my pleasure, 'Lady Caroline'".

She giggled at the title he often referred to her by. Mary smiled at the exchange between them as she rubbed her considerably swollen abdomen. She was due to give birth to her second child in a couple of months' time.

"John" she whispered to her husband sitting next to her, "I just realised that I have been heavily pregnant on both occasions when we have been invited over here for Christmas."

John glanced at her and whispered in her ear,

"Well, you know what that means don't you!"

"No, I don't actually!" Molly returned.

"Well we both know how eccentric the Holmes family is…what with all the chemical experiments they play around with…"

Mary turned questioningly at him, so John added,

"So with all that experimenting going on, there would no doubt be some very interesting things in their drinking water!"

"Very plausible, John" Sherlock interrupted, leaning close to the couple as he refilled their glasses, "Except that Mary was already well and truly pregnant before you two turned up at the door!"

John and Mary laughed.

"However," Sherlock added, in an attempt to bate his gloomy older brother (who was in a broody mood at the other end of the table; and who still openly hated Christmas, despite relishing the snow fights with the children), "I do recall Mycroft lacing our drinking water one year with red food dye, just to startle Mum!"

"No need to stir up trouble, brother mine!" Mycroft's voice echoed from down the table, before Sherlock could elaborate further. He silenced Sherlock with a look that said "I can drag up as many embarrassing memories about you as what you can about me!"

"Now, now boys," their mother exclaimed, "Be good examples to the children!"

"Sorry Mother," murmured Mycroft as he spied three pairs of young eyes waiting to hear what he would say. Sherlock grinned at him wickedly, until he caught his mother's stern gaze which demanded as similar apology. He gave his, and this seemed to satisfy her as she rose from the table and announced,

"I think that it is time to bring out apple pie now!"

Little Eleanor and Caroline eagerly helped her clear away the plates, and then to hand out the dessert. Everyone had a slice, as everyone knew how scrumptious Mrs Holmes' apple pie was….

The rest of the day saw the men and children rigging up snow forts from which to hurl snowballs at each other. The women and baby Oliver remained in the warmth and discussed maternal things. Soon, when the weather turned too cold, the others tramped back inside with the promise of hot chocolate and the traditional Holmes' family game which was a combination of charades and deduction.

After a few rousing rounds, it was time for the little ones to go to sleep. Soon after the Holmes twins and their little brother were put to bed, John carried a sleepy Caroline as he escorted Mary and Mrs Hudson out the door. After seeing them off, the elderly Holmes couple embraced a seemingly mollified Mycroft who was also on his way out. They then went up to bed after saying their goodbyes.

"I'll beat you next year, brother mine," Mycroft added for good measure, once his parents had disappeared from sight. Sherlock matched the challenge in his brother's eyes, with a determined gaze of his own that said more than what many words could convey. Molly (ever the referee) slid her arms around Sherlock's trim waist from behind, and gazed out from under the crook of his left arm. Sherlock then instinctively cuddled her to his side.

"Goodnight, Mycroft, it was lovely to see you again." She gently intervened, before the mental jousting match between the brothers got out of hand.

Mycroft softened, his cultured manners returning to the fore-front of his mind.

"Indeed, it was a pleasure, Molly" He returned, "A great pleasure… to see both of you and your darling children."

With that admission, the elder Holmes brother left the couple on the doorstep. As Sherlock and Molly watched him drive away, Molly looked up at the distant look in her husband's eyes.

"You do realise, Sherlock, that underneath his elaborate façade, your brother does care about you…about us…even though he doesn't always show it!"

Sherlock looked down at the eager and sincere look that Molly cast him. She truly had the great gift of seeing the best in people.

"Oh Molly," Sherlock admitted, holding her close, "I sometimes wish I possessed half your goodness."

Molly responded by hugging him tight, and burying her face into his warm chest.

"The world needs astute and wise people, Sherlock," she murmured, "I am just so thankful that I married a man who excels in both attributes, and still turns out to be a fantastic kisser!"

With that, Sherlock leant down to passionately smooch Molly before a wicked gleam grew across his striking eyes and this warned his wife of his imminent intentions. Before Molly had a chance to voice any response, Sherlock swept her up over his shoulder and carried her possessively, and yet devotedly, into the house, and on into their room, where he intimately reminded Molly of the great blessing and joy she had brought into his life.

The END


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